


The Difference between a Man and a Monster

by Mooonglow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Awesome Melissa McCall, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Episode: s05e10 Status Asthmaticus, Gen, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, no Scott bashing in this house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29494428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooonglow/pseuds/Mooonglow
Summary: Melissa McCall had never assumed she was a perfect mom. No one was. But she’d always wanted to be there for her child as best as she could.When she’d given birth to her son and later accepted his best friend as her second son, she would have never anticipated the burden they were going to be forced to carry.When Melissa finds Stiles sitting alone at night by his broken Jeep and takes him home to warm him up, he confesses something she wishes he'd never have to go through.
Relationships: Melissa McCall & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 14
Kudos: 71





	The Difference between a Man and a Monster

**Author's Note:**

> I love Melissa and I wish we would've gotten more scenes with her and Stiles, and Stiles really needed someone to listen to him in the season 5a finale, soo I wrote this!  
> Keep in mind that this takes place before Theo kills Scott and before Stiles' Dad is attacked, which is why Melissa can give her entire attention to Stiles.
> 
> Enjoy!

Melissa McCall had never assumed she was a perfect mom. No one was. But she’d always wanted to be there for her child as best as she could.

When she’d given birth to her son and later accepted his best friend as her second son, she would have never anticipated the burden they were going to be forced to carry.

She was tired as she drove back home from yet another late shift. She just wanted to get home and in bed. It had stopped raining, but it was still cold outside, so the thought of her warm bed was all too tempting.

She gasped when she saw an object lying on the street and just barely managed to not drive over it. It seemed like someone had lost it. Cursing under her breath, she wondered briefly why anyone would be so irresponsible, then her heart stopped when she recognized a car that was unmistakably Stiles’ Jeep parked on the side of the road. Her foot instinctively hit the brake. In the dim light, it looked as though the Jeep’s windshield was cracked.

Worry gripped Melissa’s heart. She needed to know if Stiles was okay. It was certain to her that he’d gotten into an accident, or worse, a fight.

When she parked her own car opposite of Stiles’, part of her hoped Stiles wasn’t there, that he was somewhere with Scott, safe. But knowing Stiles, he’d never voluntarily leave the Jeep like this, which was why she was sick with worry by the time she stopped the engine of her car and stepped outside.

She shivered in the cold air as she crossed the street with wide steps. Luckily, this wasn’t a street that was very busy at this nighttime.

It was hard to see anything now that the headlights were off, so Melissa needed a moment to spot Stiles.

He was sitting with his back against a wheel of the Jeep, arms wrapped around his knees and gaze going into nowhere.

Melissa gulped at the thought of how cold he had to be. There was no way she was going to let him sit there any longer. “Stiles?” She hunkered down next to him.

The boy flinched, huge eyes staring at her in shock.

“Stiles, are you okay?”

Stiles just gaped at her for a while, his face mostly hidden in the darkness. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said eventually, voice rough.

Having known Stiles for almost his entire life, Melissa knew to never trust him when he said that, and this was no exception. “Did something happen?”

Stiles averted his gaze and silently shook his head.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Did the Jeep break down?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, let’s get you home.” It would be no use trying to get him to talk just now. He needed to get out of the cold. 

When Stiles made no move to stand up, Melissa rested her hand on his arm, but he didn’t even look at her. His sleeve was soaked by rain. “Stiles. You’re gonna get sick out here. You’re wet and cold. I’m gonna drive you home, the Jeep can stay here for the time being.” Fortunately for them, parking on the side of this road wasn’t strictly prohibited.

It took some convincing for Stiles to finally get on his feet and let himself be guided to Melissa’s car.

Melissa turned on the heating, not liking the way the boy kept shivering.

Stiles was uncharacteristically quiet while they were driving. Occasional glances to the passenger’s seat showed him gazing out the window, his body still except for his leg relentlessly bouncing up and down.

“Is your dad on a night shift?”

“Yeah.”

A voice in Melissa’s head, perhaps her motherly instinct, told her not to leave him alone this night, which was why she took the next turn towards her own house and not Stiles’.

“Why… why aren’t you driving me home?” The fidgeting of Stiles’ leg increased when they came to a halt in the McCall driveway.

“Because you need to warm up and I would like to keep an eye on you in case you caught a fever out there.” The truth was, she was even more worried about his state of mind than his physical health, but telling him that would just lead to him shutting her out.

“I’m fine.”

Melissa sighed. “Come on, kiddo.”

Stiles trailed behind her into the house. Inside, she could finally properly look at him. His hair was wet and glued to his forehead, his clothes sticking to his skin. There was probably no inch of his body that wasn’t soaked wet.

“Stiles, how about you grab some of Scott’s dry clothes?” She almost missed the way Stiles froze when she mentioned her son. “Come on, you guys share clothes all the time. I’m sure he won’t be mad, especially considering how wet yours are. Scott, are you home?” Scott didn’t answer. If he were home, he would’ve heard them come in anyway. “Do you know where Scott is?”

Stiles licked his lips and shook his head. “I better go…”

“No, no. I’m gonna go pick some clothes from Scott’s for you, you stay here. Then I’m gonna make you a hot chocolate while you change.” She waited for a sarcastic remark, but Stiles just sighed and nodded.

When she returned with dry clothes shortly after, Stiles was still standing there, head hanging low and hands clenched together.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, not even looking at her, before he disappeared into the bathroom.

While preparing the hot chocolate, Melissa couldn’t stop thinking about his odd behavior. Something must have happened to him, and despite his repeated insisting that he was fine, the lack of his usual restlessness and blabbering was like a red flag in Melissa’s eyes. The fact that he didn’t know where Scott was, was concerning as well, considering the two of them were basically attached to the hip, but she decided not to dwell too much on the matter now. She did send a quick text to Scott, though, asking him where he was.

She was determined to find out what was up with Stiles. His behavior reminded her all too well of one year ago, when he had spiraled before the Nogitsune had taken over.

He’d gotten better after that, not back to his old self, but better. It had been clear to Melissa that he wasn’t going to heal from it within a few months, and now she wondered whether he’d reached another breaking point. She had to find out what that breaking point was and how to help him out of it.

She found him sitting on the couch in the living room, hands and legs fidgeting nervously. He gave her a small smile and thanked her when he took the mug with the hot chocolate, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Melissa sat next to Stiles while he sipped from his drink. Though she was dying to know what was going through his head, she wanted him to come to her first.

“Feeling warmer?” she asked after minutes of silence when he’d finished drinking and set the mug aside.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Good.” She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.

Stiles immediately jerked away with a pained hiss, face scrunched up.

The nurse in Melissa instantly jumped into action. “Are you hurt?”

Rubbing his shoulder, Stiles shook his head. “No… no, I’m fine.”

“Stiles.”

“It’s just a pulled muscle.”

Something told Melissa this injury had to do with his strange behavior, but she didn’t know how to make him open up to her about it. “We should apply some cream to it.”

“No, it’s okay.” But the twist on his face proved him wrong.

“Stiles, you know I can help.”

He looked at her with an unreadable expression. “I said I’m fine!”

Melissa sighed, deciding to drop it. She wasn’t going to get anything out of the boy, even though she hated the thought of him rejecting her help.

Stiles simply sat there for a while, quiet, but he looked tense and nervous, like he was going to snap any moment. He looked burdened.

“Stiles.” She put a careful hand on his arm and squeezed gently when he didn’t pull away. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

He shook his head. “Not about this.”

The underlying worry she’d been holding for him, for all those kids, as a constant, manifested itself around her heart like a cold fist. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but please just tell me, are you in danger? Right now?”

“I’m always in danger,” the eighteen-year-old said bleakly.

Melissa resisted the urge to pull him into a hug and rock him like a child. Instead, she just increased her grasp on his forearm. “I mean right now. Are you in… immediate danger?”

Stiles gulped and shook his head. “No…” His tongue flicked across his lips. “No, the danger is gone. I mean not really, but…” He released a shuddering breath, and Melissa knew he was dying to talk about whatever was upsetting him, but she also knew how stubborn he was.

He wasn’t going to talk unless he felt comfortable with it. Pushing him would just result in him retreating further into his shell. For a few moments, Stiles stared into the void, thoughts locked away, emotions crossing his face too fast for Melissa to decipher them. Eventually, he scrunched his eyes shut tightly, lips trembling.

“It was a wendigo,” he finally breathed, barely audible. “He had a mouth, in-in his hand, and he bit my shoulder with it. I… I don’t know if it’s infected, it...” He breathed in shakily. “It hurts, I don’t know… I didn’t know what to do, I just… I don’t want it to get infected.” When he quickly looked up at her, the fear in his eyes startled her.

The almost overwhelming urge to cradle him in her arms was quickly pushed down by her professional side. “Stay here. I’m gonna have a look.”

She returned shortly after with disinfectant and gauze, patiently waiting for Stiles to gather enough courage to allow her to take a look at the injury. She wasn’t sure why he was so scared, but his whole body was rigid with unease when she examined the damage.

The wound in question was nothing she’d ever seen before, which was very telling considering she’d been treating supernaturally caused injuries for good two years now. It was circle-shaped, about the size of a palm, multiple small teeth marks scattered around it. It was an open wound, the flesh bright red, the skin surrounding the odd injury was reddened as well.

Melissa swallowed back bile while she worked on it, not wanting Stiles to pick up on her concern. It didn’t look badly infected, yet, but had he walked around like this for a little longer, the result wouldn’t have been pretty.

“You should’ve come to me earlier. It’s gonna be okay now, but it could’ve grown badly infected.”

“Thanks,” he muttered before quickly pulling his shirt back over the wound.

He was still incredibly tensed, but didn’t dodge when Melissa rested her hand on his forearm again. “Does Scott know about it?”

Melissa’s heart jumped at the way Stiles stiffened and pulled his arm out of her grip. “No, he doesn’t. I-I gotta go now.” He was jittery, his whole body language screaming anxiety.

Scott didn’t know? Stiles was badly hurt and Scott didn’t know? “What do you mean, he doesn’t know? Stiles?”

“He doesn’t know. He doesn’t… I didn’t tell him, okay, he doesn’t need to know…” Stiles’ bottom lip was quivering along with his voice.

“Does he know about the wendigo?”

“Yeah… I gotta go, thanks for taking care of the wound…” He stood up at once.

Melissa rose as well, stepping in front of him. His body was shaking. Something was seriously wrong. “Stiles, you’re in no condition to go home now. Sit.” Her voice was soft as she lowered him back onto the couch with gentle force.

Stiles exhaled shakily, clamping his hands together in front of his face and staring at the floor. “I haven’t told anyone,” he said quietly.

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Melissa’s stomach. Something must have happened with Scott, and she was beyond concerned now. If something had happened to Scott, she had no doubt Stiles would tell her.

But Stiles had been hurt and he hadn’t told Scott about it even though Scott knew Stiles had been attacked? Of course Stiles preferred to not guide the attention to his vulnerability, but still. Something was off, and Melissa had a very bad feeling about the whole issue. “Is everything okay between you and Scott?”

Stiles actually flinched at that. Brown eyes filled up with tears as he lifted his gaze to her. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Stiles…”

The boy let out a sound that sounded like a mixture of a huff and a sob. “Maybe you should hear Scott’s version first,” he said bitterly.

Melissa’s eyes grew wide. Did they have an argument? Scott and Stiles were essentially inseparable. What could have gotten between them that would lead to an argument that would leave Stiles this shaken? “No, Stiles. I want to hear your version.”

He relentlessly shook his head. “Scott’s your son, you should… I shouldn’t be here, I should… I don’t know… I shouldn’t…” His chest was heaving as he made a frantic move to stand back up, but Melissa pulled him back down, her heart pounding wildly in her ribcage.

“Stiles, stay with me. Scott is my son, but you’re like my second son. I love you and I want you to be alright, so please, let me help you figure this out.”

Stiles screwed his eyes shut. “I can’t… I can’t,” he pressed out, his breath hitching.

Afraid he was going to work himself into a panic attack and thus not daring to touch him, Melissa tried to soothe him with words. “Stiles, it’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure it out. Stiles, shh…”

Still breathing heavily, Stiles shook his head. “I fucked up…”

“You didn’t, Stiles, you didn’t. I don’t know what happened, but I promise, it’s gonna be okay.”

Her heart broke when Stiles continued to shake his head.

“No, no, it’s not, it’s… it’s just not.”

“Then let me help you! You’re going to be okay—”

She startled when Stiles jumped up all of a sudden. “No! I’m not! I’m not okay, alright?! I’m not! And I’m… I don’t know, just…” Chest heaving, his eyes skipped around as if to find the words he so desperately needed to get out. “I fucked up, okay?! And I don’t know how to fix it, I don’t know what to do!” His voice cracked a little.

Melissa had seen Stiles in many different stages of distress, and she knew behind the anger and aggression he was showing right now were hiding way deeper emotions. The simple fact that he’d finally admitted not being okay was like a cry for help in her ears, but she had no idea how to be there for him if he didn’t open up to her. “Let me help, Stiles, please.”

“You can’t… I don’t know… I hate myself for what I did, okay, you can tell Scott that, okay, so he, he can… so he knows he’s not the only one, okay? He’s right about whatever he thinks of me now because I… I’m a monster, okay, I’m a monster and he’s right…” A tear made its way down his cheek and he ignored it.

Melissa could only gape at him for a few shock-filled moments. Was this a late reaction to what had happened with the Nogitsune? “What do you mean? You’re not a monster, Stiles, you’re you. Why would you say tha-”

“Because I killed him!”

There was a beat of silence, Stiles’ tear-filled eyes staring into Melissa’s shocked ones.

“I killed someone, okay? Someone is dead, because I killed him! And this time I was not possessed, this time it was really me, I did it, I killed someone, okay?! And Scott… Scott hates me now… As he should…” His shoulders slumped and he stumbled forward onto the couch as a sob escaped his throat.

Melissa didn’t hesitate, she gathered him in her arms before he could flee, pressing his head against her shoulder and pulling him close.

This should have never happened. Those kids should have never had to deal with something like this.

Stiles tried to fight and get away, but Melissa didn’t let him. Whatever had happened, she knew for a fact that he would never kill someone in cold blood, she’d seen the guilt in his eyes after the Nogitsune, and back then he hadn’t even been himself. She wasn’t sure why he thought Scott hated him, either, but the one thing she knew was that Stiles was seconds away from a full-blown breakdown and needed her to be there for him now more than ever. “Stiles, breathe,” she whispered into his ear, rubbing his back against the tremors shaking his body. “I’m here, I don’t hate you, I’m here. Stiles, you’re not a monster.”

Stiles’ body sagged against her. He started to sob frantically, face pressed into her shoulder and fingers clawing into her shirt.

Melissa was at a loss, unable to do anything but hold him tightly and softly rock him from side to side. She was deep in unknown waters here, afraid of saying the wrong thing and doing even more damage.

“His name was Donovan,” Stiles whispered all of a sudden, his words muffled, and Melissa stopped breathing. “The wendigo. He-he attacked me at the school. I was fixing the Jeep and I had a wrench, and… He bit my shoulder, and I hit him with the wrench and ran to the library, but he… he followed me, he… he wanted to… He talked about wanting to… to kill my dad, and I couldn’t… I was hiding. He found me and attacked me again…” He gulped heavily and Melissa tightened her embrace, encouraging him to go on. “There was this, this scaffolding… I climbed it, tried to, but he tried to pull me down, and he wanted to eat my legs…” He shuddered.

Melissa closed her eyes, proceeding to soothingly run her hand through Stiles’ hair. She hated this, all of this.

“I had nowhere to go, so I… There was this metal pin, it was, like, holding the scaffolding together, you know, and I… I pulled it. I just pulled it. So that maybe he’d let go of me. Just…” Another shaky breath. “And all those metal braces came down… And… One of them… One of them went right through him…” He was shaking now. “There was so much blood…” Stiles buried his face deeper into her shoulder as he cried.

An unexplainable rage bubbled up in Melissa’s chest at the sheer unjust of it all. Stiles had gone through way too much in his short life, had experienced way too much death and blood and pain, too much despair and fear and loss, and he just deserved to get a break and be happy, for God’s sake.

“And Scott… Scott somehow found out, he found the wrench, and he, he, he told me we can’t kill people, and I know that, I know that! But he… I don’t know… He hates me now. Scott hates me and I fucked up and I… I have too much blood on my hands, I can’t handle it, I can’t do this anymore, I can’t…”

The utter despair in his voice brought tears to Melissa’s eyes. Stiles had always been the strong one who protected everyone, the funny, sarcastic one, but she was aware that a lot of that was just façade. Only he himself knew what was going on in his head, how much everything had been affecting him, but she was certain, convinced even, that all the trauma had been getting to him much more than he felt comfortable letting on. He might not like to admit it, but he needed help and support.

The same applied to Scott. Scott, the True Alpha who had never wanted to be a leader but had had no choice, who felt the weight of the world on his shoulders and yet continued to soldier on and try to save everyone from threats that three years ago he hadn’t even known existed.

While she didn’t know everything that had been said between Scott and Stiles, she found it hard to believe that Scott hated Stiles. The two of them had been best friends, brothers, since they’d been four years old. They’d been through more together than imaginable. They had—almost literally—gone through hell and back with and for each other.

Scott had a strong sense of moral that helped him be a good leader and that included trying to save lives, not take them. His supernatural powers helped with that.

Stiles, on the other hand, had no powers, he was not supernatural. It was harder and, to some extent, more dangerous for him to defend himself, and yet he kept throwing himself into supernatural fights alongside his friends. His fierce loyalty was to blame for that. In terms of morals, Stiles had always been more ambiguous. He’d stolen police property, broken into buildings, committed more crimes for greater good than Melissa was comfortable knowing about. Yet, killing hadn’t been on that list. Stiles wasn’t a killer, he was a problem solver.

Melissa could imagine where Scott’s morality and Stiles’ pragmatism would clash. But if Stiles had told her the truth—which she was sure of because even though he was a scarily good liar, the fact that he was behaving so un-Stiles-like was enough proof that he was being genuine—it had been self-defense, an accident. He hadn’t wanted to kill anyone. She could not, however, imagine a scenario where Scott would resent Stiles for defending himself and accidentally taking a life.

What she could imagine, though, was Stiles self-deprecating and beating himself up over things beyond his control. He had a habit of doing so, and Melissa couldn’t fathom the guilt he had to be feeling over everything that had happened in the past years. Guilt over things that were, in fact, not his fault.

Whatever had gone down between Scott and Stiles must have been a misunderstanding. There was no other explanation. Never would Scott hate Stiles for defending his life, much less for an accident that Stiles was so obviously traumatized by.

When Stiles didn’t say anything else, Melissa tightened her embrace around him, hoping to find the right words. “Stiles… Stiles, that was clearly an accident. You didn’t want him to die, right?”

Stiles weakly shook his head, still clinging to her as if his life depended on it. “I didn’t want him to die, but I was glad when he was dead. I was glad he was dead. What kind of person does that make me?”

Fleetingly, Melissa wondered when exactly their lives had taken the turn from worrying about lacrosse games to worrying about killing people. What it said about their lives that knowing Stiles had killed someone was shocking to her, but didn’t surprise her.

She had anticipated heavy conversation with the boys when they were growing up, but before she’d been thrown into the supernatural world, she would’ve never guessed those conversations were going to revolve around _this_.

There was no use in dwelling on it, what counted was the heartbreaking amount of self-loathing she could sense in Stiles. “It makes you a person that wants to survive. He was going to hurt you. You didn’t want to get hurt. Him being dead meant you being out of danger. Relief is a natural reaction when a danger is gone. And that’s the difference between you and a monster. You didn’t mean to take his life. It just happened, accidentally. That does not make you a bad person, at all. You’re a survivor. And you didn’t have much of a choice, did you?”

“I didn’t, but…”

“See. You’re not a monster. It was self-defense. It was an accident. He wanted to kill you. It was his life or yours. If anything, he is the monster, not you.”

“He wasn’t a monster. His name was Donovan. He was a teenager, like me and Scott, he was a chimera, he was being controlled by the Dread Doctors, he didn’t have a choice, he was… he was innocent.”

“He wanted to kill you, your dad, and what, eat your legs? Doesn’t sound innocent to me.”

Stiles sighed shakily. “I know that. I know it was self-defense, logically, but… ugh… Scott said it wasn’t, I guess, I guess I just didn’t fight hard enough, I should’ve tried harder, I should’ve tried to protect him from himself, we want to save those teenagers, not kill them.”

“Was Scott there?”

“No, I was alone. Scott wasn’t there.”

“But you said you haven’t told him about it? Then how does he know what happened?”

“I don’t know, but he does, okay?! He knows what happened, and he doesn’t care that I didn’t have a choice, he says it wasn’t self-defense, which is bullshit, but he said it. He didn’t believe me when I told him I had no choice. He thinks I’m a monster, okay? And I… I can’t live with him thinking that, I can’t live with Scott hating me, I can’t!” When he roughly freed himself from the hug all of a sudden, he started fidgeting again, his bloodshot eyes skipping around the room without meeting her gaze. “I shouldn’t be here,” he mumbled hastily, and Melissa hated how she actually had to hope he meant “here” as in here in her house and not “here” as in being in her life.

“Stiles…”

“No, I should go. Sorry for bothering you, I gotta… I’m gonna go now.” He wiped his face before he jumped up, but he didn’t leave, instead his body seemed frozen, his hands anxiously buried in his hair.

Melissa stood and gently rested her hand on his shoulder, carefully avoiding the wound. “Stiles, I want you to listen to me,” she insisted.

When he didn’t give any reaction except nervous playing with his fingers, she continued. “I don’t know what exactly happened between you and Scott. But I believe you. You’re not a monster. You’re a good person, living in a world full of bad people. I love you, Stiles. I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you survived. You and Scott, you’re gonna figure it out. Maybe ask Scott how he knows. Maybe he doesn’t know the whole story. But Stiles, you are not a monster. You are not a monster.”

Tears started trickling down his cheeks once again, he wiped them off angrily. “I can’t believe he doesn’t believe me,” he mumbled so quietly Melissa almost didn’t hear it.

“He’ll come around. I’m sure of it. But how does he know? Someone must have told him, right?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know who…” A frown appeared on his face, quickly followed by a flicker of anger. “Theo,” he breathed. “Theo was there. He saw what happened. He must have told Scott. Oh God…”

“So… Maybe Theo told Scott a wrong version of what happened? Because I’m sure Scott would know what happened was an accident.”

Stiles gaped at her for a few heartbeats, the expression in his eyes one of disbelief and horror, and, lastly, betrayal. “Scott believed him over me. Of all people, he believed Theo over me.” He turned away, heading for the front door.

Melissa opened her mouth to tell him that if Stiles hadn’t properly explained himself to Scott, Scott had no reason not to believe Theo, but stopped herself when she noticed Stiles’ distressed mutters.

“I gotta go, I gotta go, I gotta… Fuck!”

Much to Melissa’s horror, he started banging his fist against the wall, repeatedly, yelling obscenities.

“Stiles, stop!” She managed to get a hold of his wrist, but he yanked it out of her grip immediately.

“Leave me alone.”

“Stiles.”

“Please.”

“Stiles…”

“No, seriously. Thanks for listening to me. But Scott is gonna come home and I don’t want to see him, and I doubt he wants to see me, so… I’m gonna go home now.”

“Stiles.” She finally caught his gaze. “I’m sorry. If there’s something I can do for you, let me know. You’re not alone in this. I love you.” Something in her heart compelled her to say those words to him. “You’re not a monster, and I will fight anyone who thinks differently.”

The hurt and betrayal Melissa could see in Stiles’ eyes made her want to have a very serious talk with her son. She decided not to be another person to break Stiles’ trust and was afraid that by confronting Scott, she was going to do exactly that, but she had to do something. A fight with Stiles would definitely affect Scott as well. Those boys needed to sort this out and talk, and if she had to be the mediator, so be it. She couldn’t bear the thought of Scott and Stiles not being best friends. She was sure Scott and Stiles couldn’t bear it, either. The heartbroken look on Stiles’ face said that much. “If you need anything, someone to talk to, anything, you can always come to me, okay?”

A small smile stole its way onto Stiles’ face. “Yeah. Thanks.” His body language told her he was by far not as calm and collected as he would like her to believe.

A sudden thought made her heart go still for a moment. “Stiles,” she said, catching his anxious gaze, “it was a supernatural being that bit you, right? Does that mean you’re going to…”

For a moment, pure horror appeared on Stiles’ face. After a second or so, though, relief took its place and he shook his head. “He was a chimera, so… Chimeras don’t turn people. And wendigos don’t, either, I think, I guess they just… eat people.” His hand went up to rub his shoulder absentmindedly.

Relief flooded her whole body. “Good. Stiles…”

He didn’t meet her eyes.

Melissa knew that forcing him to stay here would only fuel his anxiety because of the possible confrontation with Scott, which he was clearly too emotional for right now. Him being alone didn’t sit well with her, either, but a quick check of the clock told her it was already two in the morning, which meant the Sheriff was likely home by now. “Stiles, let me drive you home. Tell me when the wound gets worse. And please, talk to Scott.” When he didn’t react, she added, “Talk to anyone. Please.”

“I talked to you,” he mumbled.

“You did, and I’m glad you did. You can’t let everything eat you up from inside, Stiles.”

He huffed in annoyance.

“It’s true. You’re not alone in this. You’re never alone.”

Stiles gulped and blinked wildly, still not looking at her.

“Come on, kiddo.”

Stiles was quiet and still on the drive home. Melissa knew that with everything he’d been going through, he was scarred for life, and so were all his friends, including Scott.

She could only hope that they were going to get through all this, that they were going to be able to live peaceful lives soon. They didn’t deserve any of the horror they’d experienced.

Until then, Melissa swore, she was going to be there for them and help them through it as much as she possibly could.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting here and I'm actually really nervous about it, but last night I dreamed about posting this, so here I am!


End file.
